


Only a Matter of TIme

by Mrs_Stiltskin (Lady_Belles_Teacup)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Movie: Back to the Future Part III, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25522453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Belles_Teacup/pseuds/Mrs_Stiltskin
Summary: Hello @little-inkstone it is I, your RCIJ Secret Santa! I had a great time revisiting all of the Back to the Future movies, and even the fanboards and comments based on your prompt, and watching #3 in particular for the first time in simply ages! I had grand plans of making a whole epic series of Tales from the Time Train, but alas, only days after receiving the assignment, my life changed quite dramatically with my husband’s heart attack and surgery, and writing had to take a back seat to real life. I still had a ton of fun with this, though. So I’m not closing the door on this one. If there is interest, I can see myself writing a few adventures of the Gold family as they build their time machine and have their adventures together.I’m sorry it wasn’t more smut oriented, but my muse decided to bugger off, and I do promise future updates will include their amorous adventures as well. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy! Let’s call this one M rated...
Relationships: Belle & Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, RumBelle
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	Only a Matter of TIme

**Author's Note:**

  * For [little-inkstone](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=little-inkstone).



Dr. Emmett Gold was not an easy man to love. An eccentric curmudgeon of a man, he was driven to constant tinkering and inventing, prone to fits of midnight inspiration, and of a generally cantankerous disposition to most everyone that crossed his path. He was also brilliant on a level that came along only once in a lifetime, a true genius, and a time-traveller to boot. To Belle’s mind that portended a life of adventure and travel, a prospect that appealed to her on every level. Not to mention, she considered him to be very well turned out -- a good dancer, a smart desser and really quite handsome to her eye. In other words, Clara Belle Clayton-French was utterly and completely besotted.

She hadn’t bought the whole time-travelling shenanigans lock, stock, and barrel until she’d seen it with her own eyes. Indeed, had nearly been killed as the train accelerating Gold and Emma’s unbelievable time contraption had plunged headlong into the canyon in a fiery conflagration! She’d witnessed the fantastical machine disappear in a flash with Gold’s compatriot Emma inside, and been saved from certain, imminent death for the second time that week by flying -- _flying!_ \-- on a garishly colored, downright implausible contrivance that Emmett had called a _hoverboard_.

If someone had recounted these events to her as truth, she’d have declared them mad and sent for the doctor straight away. Why, if she spoke a word of her experiences to anyone, she’d probably be locked away in an asylum! 

Belle peered quietly around the corner of the large wooden door that led into Gold’s smithy. As usual, he was bent over his workbench, intent upon the tiny components spread out before him. Long, dark hair brushed his high cheekbones as he worked, shining tantalizingly as he shook it back out of his eyes with a toss of his head. He was working with a magnifying lens that made his large, amber eyes seem positively huge in the golden glow of the lamps that hung overhead. The work was delicate and painstaking, and she watched his slender fingers weave their magic with the miniscule wires as he manipulated them into the configurations he required. She knew precisely how clever and meticulous those fingers could be, and desire pooled in her belly as she thought about why exactly she knew such a thing.

She was not the least bit ashamed of falling for him so quickly, nor for falling into bed with him that first night. As a widow, Belle was no stranger to the activities that occurred between men and women, and Emmett had not seemed overly shocked or concerned that she would allow him such liberties, or that she should enjoy them so thoroughly with him. 

Much to her dismay, he had not sought her favors again in the days and weeks since ‘the incident.’ Oh, he was polite and affectionate, he had even told her he loved her, as she had told him, but he hadn’t so much as kissed her since then, and she was slowly going mad with frustration and uncertainty. A situation she fully intended to amend, one way or another. 

The crunch of Belle’s booted heel on the gravel floor of the smithy startled him, and Gold’s head jerked up, his lips curving into a shy smile as he recognized her familiar and welcome form framed in a warm halo of light. Dust motes danced like golden fireflies in the air around her head, reflecting the glimmer of the setting sun. She moved into the space, removing her leather gloves as she approached his table, and the gentle scent of lavender that accompanied her presence made his belly flip pleasantly with cherished memories. Gold wanted so badly to rush to her side, take her in his arms, and kiss her in greeting, but instead he willed his hands and body to remain still. Distancing himself from her was best for both of them, otherwise, the pain would only be greater in the end.

“Emmett.” Her voice was soft and melodic, and the way she said his name made him shiver to his curling toes.

“Belle.” As always, her name on his lips sounded like a benediction, and a sudden wave of heat rose unbidden in her cheeks at his use of what had quickly become her favorite pet name. It made her think of the night they had spent together under the stars and in her bed, when he had whispered it in her ear as they made love -- my beauty, my Belle, my sweetheart. 

Gold carefully placed his tools on the bench, watching her with wary eyes as she approached. She was so beautiful. Her chestnut curls were shining, and the bright blue of her gingham dress matched perfectly with the clear, unclouded azure of her eyes. Eyes that sparkled and danced as she looked him over. He backed away, and they narrowed, her lips pressing together in a thin line before taking the bottom one between her perfect, white teeth and worrying it. Gold thought how good it would be to take that sweet, plump lip between his own teeth, to nibble gently and suck until she made the delightful sounds of pleasure that made his blood boil, but he knew it wasn’t fair to her. Making love to her the first time had been impulsive and certainly a grave mistake, but to further pursue a romantic relationship when he would be leaving was grossly unfair to her. She was young and smart and beautiful, and a creature of her own time. Why would she want to leave it for him? An old man. A worthless man. An unlovable man. 

Belle bristled, watching him take a step back, his expression closed off and guarded. Dark eyes that had at first drank her in with warm appreciation quickly shuttered, as though he’d decided she wasn’t what he wanted after all, and it made her want to stomp her foot in frustration. Making love with Emmett Gold had been a joyous revelation compared to what she’d known as a wife. Her late husband had been a selfish brute, prone to fits of drunken rage and general distemper, and wholly uninterested in her enjoyment of the marriage bed. 

Emmett, by contrast, had rivaled the ardent heroes of the bodice-ripping, illicit romance novels she fervently and secretly devoured as eagerly as she devoured the works of Jules Verne. He’d been so loving, so gentle and open, and yet he burned with a vigorous passion. Not to mention, his exceptional knowledge of the female anatomy had surprised and delighted her, giving her pleasure in ways she’d only read about before the night they had spent together. Belle knew he must have feelings similar to her own, the way he’d whispered her name and clutched her close as he’d shuddered to his own completion in her arms. He’d said he loved her, for goodness sake! 

“H-how can I help you?” He stammered, trying to look anywhere but in her eyes.

“Emmett, I want to talk about what happened,” Belle huffed, setting her hands on her hips. “We need to talk about what happened.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

Belle picked up a jagged shard of the shiny pink and green material from his workbench, brandishing it as she stepped toward him.

“I mean this, Emmett Gold. When you told me you were a time-traveller, I thought you were just trying to manipulate me into another easy dalliance. That you were lying to me so you could have your way and then leave me without consequences,” she insisted. “That’s not at all the man I thought you were, and I was sorely disappointed. I didn’t believe you, but now I do. I saw your time machine with my own eyes, and we flew! On this… this… contraption!” She shook the gleaming pink weapon vehemently under his nose, and he blanched, shrinking back.

“You could have been killed! And it would have been all my fault,” he retorted, misery etched across his features. 

“But I wasn’t, and now I know you _are_ the man I thought you were from the moment we met… and so much more than that.” Belle ducked her head to try and catch his eye and hold his gaze to show her sincerity, but he looked away, shaking his head.

“I have no desire to put you in danger again.” 

“I’m not afraid, Emmett.”

“Perhaps you should be, Belle. Time is not something to be trifled with. Things can go terribly wrong in a heartbeat.” He waved his arms in frustration, slapping his hands on the table hard enough to cause several components to jump and roll. Belle flinched back, and he made a fist, shaking it at himself.

“You mean you can be trapped with no way to return to your own time,” Belle mused.

“Among other things. We nearly ended in a fiery conflagration.” His voice had softened, his shoulders sagging.

They were both silent, and Belle examined the remains of the hoverboard, her brow furrowing thoughtfully. 

“You’ve taken the flying contraption, the… hoverboard... apart? Why?”

Gold took the bright bit of broken, jagged plastic from her fingers, setting it down on the bench, and took her hands instead. His brows drew up together, and he looked forlorn, his shoulders hunched, his lower lip wobbling precariously. Lifting their clasped hands to his lips, he kissed them gently. 

“Because I’m building a new time machine,” he answered solemnly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And then I must go.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and releasing it slowly. “And so should you, back to your teaching and your books and your _life_. Leave me to my work, Belle, it’s best for both of us.” 

Belle’s heart thumped, a sob rising in her throat. Icy claws clutched at her chest, and she found it suddenly difficult to breathe. Her interference on the train had stranded him here, she knew that. He had intended to go with Emma, and her presence on the train had thwarted his plan. No wonder he despised her now. He was trapped, and building a new time machine might well-nigh be impossible with the rudimentary science available to him here in 1885. She squeezed his hands and pressed them to her breast. His desperation was her fault, and there was only one way to proceed.

“You’re a time-traveller! Of course you’re building a new machine! I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” she answered. “I’m only sorry that my interference stranded you here, and made you angry with me.”

“I’m not angry with you,” he responded softly.

“Then I don’t understand why you are pushing me away.”

“It wouldn’t be right for me to lead you on...”

“You aren’t leading me on, Emmett,” she stated, her tone matter-of-fact. Belle dropped his hands, and strode to the table, looking over the parts that lay scattered across it, but not touching anything. Intelligence and insatiable curiosity shone in her eyes as she took in the complexity and enormity of his task, and she nodded to herself, appearing to come to some sort of decision. She turned to face him. 

“I’m going to help you build it.” 

Gold started, he met her steady gaze looking utterly perplexed. His hands fluttered uselessly at his sides until he began to rub his thumb and forefinger together in a nervous gesture that made her heart melt.

“You’re what?”

“I intend to help you build this time machine of yours. I’ve read Verne, and I am both a teacher and a student of all subjects, including the sciences. It isn’t as though I am incapable of learning these new disciplines that you’ve brought from the future, however incredible and fantastical they might seem to me now.” She had turned back and was studying each of the parts, as though by looking at them hard enough she could discern their secrets and understand their properties and uses. 

Gold knew precisely how sharp her mind was, and he realized that she would have no difficulty understanding the principles of electricity and time travel if he taught them to her. Others in the town might find it strange if he took a female apprentice into his blacksmith shop, but he cared sod all for their backwards 1885 opinions anyway. 

“You would help me build it, but then I must go away, and what then would become of you?” He asked, and Belle smiled, her pink lips turning up into a cheeky grin.

“Why then I’m coming with you.” There was not a drop of hesitation in her voice or demeanor, only quiet determination, but still Gold railed.

“You can’t, Belle. It could cause a paradox and wreak havoc on the space-time continuum,” he retorted automatically, but even as he said it, Gold realized he was wrong. Belle should, by all rights, have fallen into the canyon and been removed from the present timeline in the first place. It was his rescue of her, and her being alive, that had already altered time going forward. 

Gold had begun to realize that the time travel they had already engaged in hadn’t somehow destroyed the universe already, even though he and Emma had altered both past and future on a multitude of different levels regardless of how meticulous they’d been. He was slowly coming to the realization that perhaps they _couldn’t_ create universe-ending paradoxes, and that alternate, parallel timelines were, in fact, already built into the nature of time and space itself. It boggled the mind, but every observation he’d made since commencing time travel experimentation had indicated that very truth -- time was not, and never had been, a fixed, straight line. It meandered and looped and switched back on itself in complicated folds more akin to the way the fabric of a discarded dress might pool in layers on the floor. Nothing in either the past or future was truly fixed, but was constantly rewritten. He pressed his mouth into a grim line and shook his head, it didn’t matter, why would she want to leave her own time, her own life, and travel with him to the future anyway?

“Is that why you must go? Because you don’t belong here and might cause a...” She fumbled for the word he had used. “A, what did you call it... paradox?” 

“Yes, but It’s not the only reason. I have a son...” he began. 

Belle was chewing her lower lip thoughtfully, her lovely brow furrowed in dismay.

“Then, you have a wife...In the future?”

“No. No. Sweetheart. Not anymore.” Gold shook his head, moving towards her, and grasping her hands in his. They were warm and he gave them a gentle squeeze, which she returned. “She left me years ago, but she took my son and poisoned him against me. He hasn’t spoken to me in years. I admit I made mistakes, that I’m not an easy man to love, but I’m afraid I didn’t fight hard enough to keep him, and in the end, I lost him entirely. The very reason I built the time machine in the first place was for him. To go back and fix the whole mess. I just...didn’t get the chance.” Tears pooled in his eyes when he spoke about his son, his face contorted with anguish, and Belle’s heart swelled with empathy for him. 

“And the only reason you didn’t return with Emma was because of me, and now you’re trapped here, away from your son. Oh, Emmett, no wonder you can’t wait to get away from me!” Belle looked like she was about to start crying as well, but Gold hushed her with a kiss on the forehead.

“Belle, sweetheart, no. I didn’t want to leave you, I never did. I thought about staying, about taking you with us. I was just torn, and indecision cost me my chance. None of this is your fault. Truly. I’m not angry with you.” Belle sagged in his arms, dissolving into tears.

“But you don’t want me anymore.”

Gold cupped her cheeks, lifting her face to his. He brushed away her tears with his thumbs.

“Of course I want you,” he whispered. Gold searched her face, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips despite the tears in his eyes. “I love you, Belle. I couldn’t leave you to die on that train -- no matter the cost. It’s just... Everything I love, I lose in the end. One day, I’ll lose you, too, and I can’t bear it.”

“Then you will take me with you, and sod the paradox! I want to help you reunite with your son!” Belle clutched at his lapels and he pressed his forehead to hers, their noses bumping. “I want to be with you, Emmett. Wherever or whenever you are. You’ll never lose me, I love you!” 

Belle’s pulse throbbed beneath his fingertips, her heart racing. He could feel her breath, cool against his lips, and all he wanted to do was kiss her, to taste her, to lay her down in the sweet hay and peel every stitch of clothing from their bodies. Apparently Belle had the same desire, because she rose up on her toes and kissed him, her tongue tracing his bottom lip, asking him to open for her. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, plucking them open one at a time to bare his chest. Running her fingers over his bare skin made him shiver, and he gasped, pushing back and breathing hard. Belle watched him lick his lips and swallow hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. 

“Belle, are you sure?” He asked, his voice quavering. “We won’t truly belong to any one time…there may be any number of complications. Dangers. We could end up somewhere entirely unexpected with enemies we never imagined.” 

Belle was biting at her lower lip and stroking her thumbs across his nipples, making them pebble beneath her touch while she pondered this (to him) seeming dilemma.

“How long will it take to build this time machine of yours?” She inquired.

Throwing his head back and closing his eyes, Gold considered his answer while at the same time reveling in her touch.

“I imagine it might take a few years to gather all the parts and materials, to acquire a suitable vehicle…” He trailed off as Belle pinched his nipples between thumb and forefinger, rolling them and making him gasp sharply.

“Then we have plenty of time to come to terms with our decisions, don’t we?”

She bent her head and sucked one of the stiff little buds between her lips, nibbling gently. His hips bucked toward her and she pressed against him, feeling him lengthen and harden against her stomach.

“Belle…”

“Don’t we, Emmett?”

“Yes!” Gold finally broke, pushing her back against the workbench. Belle squeaked as he lifted her to sit on the edge of the table, gathering her skirts and petticoats and slipping between her knees. She clutched at his waist, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him against her center. She was warm and wet for him already, and he could feel her heat through his trousers and her drawers and it was all he could do not to tear the clothes from her body as they kissed. 

“Yes. So let’s not worry about everything all at once. The future will sort itself out, with or without our help.” Belle cupped his rear, enjoying his quiet growl as she ground herself against him. “As for the past… we’ll find your son, and we’ll get him back, and we’ll show him that you are an easy man to love, Emmett Gold.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Gold breathed, kissing her hungrily, his fingers curling into her hips as he tugged her closer. “And in the meanwhile?”

“In the meanwhile,” Belle whispered, nibbling on his bottom lip. “In the meanwhile, why don’t you take me home, and get me in bed so you can have your wicked way with me, Dr. Gold. Otherwise I’m going to insist you take me here, over this bench, and then we’ll make a terrible mess of all your hard work.”

“It’s only a matter of time, I’m sure, Ms. Clayton-French,” Gold murmured, slipping his hand down to cup her mound and making her squirm and giggle against him.

“Inevitable,” she gasped, pouting as he stepped back and helped her down from the table. Smoothing her rumpled skirts and pulling her tight against his body, Gold held her gaze steady as he slipped his fingers between his lips to taste her. It made her knees go weak. 

Life with Dr. Emmett Gold was going to be a grand adventure.


End file.
